A blog on the day to day life of a teenage girl with severe depression and how she copes whilst moving on with her life.

The Lucy Eperience

Thursday, 12 December 2013

About Me

This post is about me, what I do and my experiences.

In 2011 I was diagnosed with severe depression, my life felt like it had spiraled out of control into an endless pit of darkness, this hauled me down a path of self harm and over eating. My self harm soon escalated until I was Cutting deep horrible words into my arm, even to this day is still have the faint scarring of 'hate' across my wrist, luckily my cuts slowly but surely faded. Every time I look towards my wrist the feeling of regret and pain hits me, I regret every scar I created and wish I had never done that. Luckily it has been 18 months since I last cut myself, thanks to the help from a university research team that was looking into why children self harmed, their name was 'SHIFT'. I was one of hundreds of teenagers that were in the study and was offered free family counselling that ended September of this year.

Now before I was offered my counselling I put up a huge struggle alongside my mum to find a counselor, Every time I reached out for help, to find some support and stability I was pushed aside, I had tried multiple teen support groups and the doctors that offered counselling and I was put down as I was 'outside the area' or 'just over the age limit'. I was even offered a place for counselling over the phone and rang me up a few minutes later saying they'd made a mistake and were unable to help me, even though I had confessed I was suicidal and thought I couldn't cope any longer.

I struggled by with my first few months of college,but it had gotten too much that even creating a simple diagram of the heart had me flooded with tears as it wouldn't turn out right, in that instance I had ripped it up and couldn't control myself. I felt as though I had failed, I'm glad that on that night I had my mothers arms around me, telling me it would be OK, even though I knew it wouldn't.

All my depression, my anger and hatred stems back to when I was 10 years old, this was the age my biological father started abusing me.

It was not just words that hurt, but the way he used to twist my arms and wrists, how he'd pin me down and threaten me, tell me how no one would believe me and my mum would hate me, as a 10 year old I believed him. This lasted until I was 16, this is when I finally came out about what he had done to me. Each year the abuse got worse, on the final day he ever hurt me was the day I ran away, the day his abuse got so much I was scared for my own life, the day he pinned me up by my throat, nearly snapped my arm, it was also the day I hit back.

I found myself struggling to breath, hoping he'd soon let go, but he wasn't. I could see in his eyes that he wasn't. He seemed prepared to kill his own flesh and blood. His only daughter.

At the point I felt I was about to pass out, I could see my life flashing before my eyes, all the times he'd hit me, hurt me, threatened to kill me, it all rushed past and I scratched out. He let go of my arm and I wriggled out of his grasp around my neck, he pushed me onto the sofa, raising his fist, I was kicking and screaming, crying for any help at all, I threw something at him, Missed. Luckily something caught his eye, and I saw my moment and ran, I ran as far and as fast as my little legs and lungs could go. I only ever looked back once, and all I saw was him creating a large cut over my scratch with a knife. I got from Urmston to old Trafford, cradling my wrist and throat. I'd finally reached my quickly thought up goal, my grandma's. sadly she wasn't in, but after sitting on the step crying my cousin walked up and found me, he took me in, tried to calm me down, rang my mum. Immediately she went home and spoke to Ian, he had bade up some BS story about how I had lashed out and started attacking him for no reason, then she came to get me. She saw the large finger marks around my wrist and neck, we got back and there was a screaming match between her and him, she'd got his clothes and kicked him out. That was when he went and told the same sob story to my grandma, and she believed him. After a large struggle of getting him kicked out once and for all my mums family started shoving their noses into what had happened, they never once bothered to ask me what had happened, only him. At this point I spoke to one of my friends on facebook and openly posted that I did not have a dad, the family then told me to stop saying horrible things... my reply: He isn't a dad, what he did to me was disgusting and doesn't deserve to have me as a daughter. To this response the cult leader of the family went around and said I told them he sexually abused me. He had never touched me in that way. ever. I had never said them words and wouldn't falsely accuse someone of being a child molester. But I will openly and happily call him a disgusting slimeball of an alcoholic who deserves absolutely no happiness in life and I hope he croaks it, he is a child abuser and should not be allowed near kids. I've even said that to him. haha.

anyway, after retaliating against the 'family' I was called a 'bitch' and was unwelcome on any of their door steps. They then proceeded to try and turn my own mother against me. And how my heroic mum had basically told them to 'eff off' I will never be as thankful for anything than I am for that. To know after all that misery someone actually loved me. Heaven.

Just incase any 'family' member tries to read this, just know. Through all the punches, hits, threats and pain... I got through my GCSE's highest out of the family. Nearly straight A's. I also got higher than any other family member getting two A's and a B in college studying nursing. I am now going onto university (again higher than them) to study mental health nursing. Helping others like me.

After all the pain, self harm and suicide attempts I can now say I am better than any of that family. The people who said they loved me but wished me hell. I can now waft my huge middle fingered salute as I run past their houses with my running club and smile. My life may be difficult but it has made me an amazing person, I know what real love is, what compassion is and I love showing it in my job.

I will be posting regularly about updates, what I do to cope, different strategies I use in day to day life and that could help everyone's mental well-being!